


Soothing the Savage Beast

by Lillian



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Birthday Party, Crack, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Fix-It, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2019-12-30 01:52:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18305768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillian/pseuds/Lillian
Summary: "No virgins are getting chucked into volcanoes," Strange insists. "The strategy we must employ to achieve a painless - relatively painless - victory is somewhat unconventional. That's all."





	1. Chapter 1

"Does your friend often do that?" asked the bug-like alien.

Tony turned to find Strange gently bobbing in the air and glowing like a yoyo at a nineties rave. And Tony thought Bruce had been embarrassing.

"Strange, you okay?" he asked, inching closer in case Strange needed help. Again. But who was counting. Not Tony.

Strange crashed to the ground on cue, shaking his head in obvious disorientation.

"What was that?" Peter chimed in from the back of their little crowd.

"I went forward in time to view alternate futures in order to witness various outcomes of the coming battle," Strange explained. His eyes flitted to the group behind the kneeling Tony, then down to the time stone before settling back on Tony. Tony didn't know the guy well but given that he'd been acting cool as a cucumber so far, this was probably Strange rattled, which was very not good.

"How many did you see?" asked Footloose.

"14 600 606."

"How many did we win?" asked Tony. He hoped against hope that Strange was just a perfectionist, that their odds couldn't really be that bad, but no one checked fourteen million futures and change to find the one alternate reality in which his cloak wouldn't get wrinkled in the inevitably victorious battle.

Strange hesitated briefly.

"Two," he said, and then hastened to add. "But only one with no casualties."

There was a brief silence in which Tony waited for the other shoe to drop. Strange wasn't exactly forthcoming on the details, in fact he'd gone back to staring at something over Tony's shoulder with the look of a man who was trying to manfully endure a sudden attack of acid reflux.

"So what's the catch then, Doc? We need to sacrifice a virgin or something," Tony asked. He was only employing his time-honored tradition of dealing with tense situations by acting inappropriately, but then Strange's attention snapped back to him almost guiltily and a little "Holy shit!!!" neon sign started blinking frantically in the back of Tony's mind. For a fraction of a second the ridiculous fantasy of having to defend Parker while trying to convince Strange and the others to find a different, preferably evil virgin to chuck into a volcano, flashed through his mind like a streaker through a football field.

"Please tell me which part of what I said ran close to the truth so I can stop freaking out," Tony said. It came out lower and quieter than he'd intended, almost like growling.

"Nobody's getting sacrificed," Strange insisted firmly enough. "The strategy we must employ to achieve a painless - relatively painless - victory is somewhat unconventional. That's all."

"Okay. What is it?"

But Strange only got up decisively and proclaimed, with unnecessary theatricality in Tony's opinion, "We must return to Earth. The answer lies there."

~ ~ ~

But first they left a note for Thanos, a very obvious glowy one, attached to a boulder that looked like a hand with the middle finger extended. Tony's idea, of course. Unfortunately he couldn't be obnoxious at Strange, who'd clammed up and started meditating on the precise sequence of events that had to transpire in order for them to win, but at least flipping the bird at Thanos made Tony feel better.

Footloose, Insect Barbie and the Intergalactic Mr. Proper agreed to give them a lift once Strange assured them this would lead to the return of the fabled Gamora who turned out to be Footloose's girlfriend.

On the ship Tony casually sat between Peter and everyone else, an action that soothed his paranoid protectiveness. It did nothing for his ability to think clearly as Peter took this as an invitation to lean in closer every couple of minutes and murmur questions, inane observations about the space ship, or offers of gummy bears. His quick, hot breath hit Tony's neck just over the neck seam of the suit, giving away just how nervous the kid actually was and driving Tony crazy. He also felt the irresistible urge to comfort the kid somehow, which was how they ended up talking strategy in Aliens with gummy bear props. All too soon, however, the large blue sphere of their home planet loomed in the distance.

Strange still appeared to be out of it and everyone else was huddled around a communication device and talking to someone called Neutrogena or something. It was now or never. Tony turned towards Peter, making sure his back shielded the kid from view.

"Listen, Pete, this seems way too good to be true. I'm pretty sure Dumbledore is hiding something. So just be on your guard, okay?" he whispered. Peter looked up from sweeping the various disemboweled and decapitated bears into the packaging. His earnest, painfully young face was turned up towards Tony with such attentiveness that if Tony didn't know him to be a sassy brat and a pain in the ass of the worst kind he might even have felt fond of him.

Oblivious to Tony's moment of insanity, Peter was nodding industriously in a way probably meant to show that he would definitely heed Tony's advice this time, all empirical evidence to the contrary notwithstanding.

"Yeah, he's kind of got my instincts on edge ever since he came out of that trance. I wasn't gonna mention it because I don't think he means anything bad, it's just..." he trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Tony remembered just how good Peter's hearing was. He definitely heard Strange's little declaration about letting both of them die if the stone was in danger.

Tony clapped the kid on the shoulder, and instead of letting go quickly like he'd meant to, squeezed. "It'll be fine, we'll pull through. I'll even let you pick the victory restaurant this time."

Peter made a valiant attempt to smile, but the expressive corners of his mouth kept on drooping. His fingers flexed nervously on his lap and then he did something that made Tony freeze.

Peter reached up and grabbed Tony's hand on his own shoulder.

"If this doesn't work out-" he said.

"I know. If it doesn't work out we'll have lead Thanos to a world full of innocent, defenseless bystanders. It's why it has to work."

Peter took a deep breath and nodded. His fingers tightened briefly on Tony's before slowly sliding away. 

Tony couldn't promise him a win and the kid was smart enough to know it. But he seemed more centered after their pep talk all the same. 

Tony knew one day he'd let the kid down in an irreparable way. It was inevitable. Peter wasn't like Pepper or Rhodey, wasn't an adult who saw Tony clearly and whose fondness for him was accordingly tinged with disappointment, exasperation and the mutual understanding that Tony would be cut off if he went too far. What happened with the Vulture was supposed to have been Peter's rude awakening to the many and varied flaws of Tony Stark, except it hadn't worked out like that for some reason Tony would likely never fathom, and nearly two years later Peter still looked at Tony like he hung the moon and stars and provided system support for them free of charge.

Still, this faith in Tony seemed to be helping Peter soldier on, seemed to make his load a little bit lighter. Tony hadn't found a way to make him act more like a kid and less like a reckless force of good and chaos. Most of the time he told himself it was a good thing to give Peter the safety net he so clearly needed. Other times he was afraid all he was giving the kid was a dangerous false hope, that Tony would fail to catch him when it really mattered and that it would be better if Peter didn't rely on him at all. Except when left to his own devices, Peter still managed to risk his life in increasingly inventive ways so who the hell knew which way he was really safer.

Tony sighed and got up, feeling like his joints or the suit's joints or something should be creaking as he did so. Of course nothing did since the nanites were a marvel of engineering and these days Tony lead a disgustingly healthy life. Come to think of it he was more than due for another fuck-up, unless skipping out on Pepper on an alien torture vehicle counted, in which case he hoped the wedding wasn't off. He was reasonably sure he could get Pepper to forgive him for taking off to save the universe if he groveled hard enough.

All around him, his unlikely compadres were getting battle ready as well. Quill was stuffing grenades down his pants, the aliens were warming up by running in place, and Strange was unfolding himself from the lotus pose with an expression that would make an undertaker look cheerful.

Showtime it was.

"So, where are we headed? Some mystical time lord temple? The lost city of Atlantis? Your tailor for some quick re-hemming on the go?"

~ ~ ~

It turned out they were headed for a small art slash pet cafe in New York.

Anticlimactic didn't even begin to cover it.

Strange was now comfortably ahead of Bruce in the race for most embarrassing superhero buddy Tony ever had.

He, Peter, Strange and the aliens were currently standing on the other side of the road from the cafe, entirely ignored by passersby courtesy of a quick magic spell.

"Mr. Stark..." said Peter slowly.

"Later, kid. The floor's all yours, Strange. What the hell are we doing here?"

Tony could have sworn that Strange cringed a little. The cloak definitely gave off an impression of sheepishness.

"This will be difficult to explain."

"Mr. Stark," said Peter again, a little more urgently. If Tony wasn't in armor he would bet the kid would be tugging on his sleeve right about now.

"No bathroom breaks allowed now, I told you you should have gone on the ship," Tony said without looking at him. He had his eyes narrowed at Strange. "I suggest you start explaining now, Doc, because I don't think we have much time. I assume the guy currently in possession of a handful of Infinity Stones will get to Earth faster than the spaceship equivalent of an 80s Oldsmobile."

"What did you say about _my ship_? Next time you can fly back on your own, you ungrateful-"

"Mr. Stark!!!"

The fear in Peter's voice made Tony do a 180 quickly enough to give himself whiplash. Peter had really grabbed Tony's arm at some point but he was staring at the cafe, looking near panic. He turned large, scared eyes on Tony.

"May works here," he said quietly.

"I apologize for this," Strange said, and snapped his fingers.

~ ~ ~

Tony blinked awake to the sound of slurping and the smell of garlic. Once his vision cleared he found he was in a box in a food joint, with the Guardians clustered around a big bowl of something that looked like puke but was probably a dip. Just as Tony stared, a violently green alien Tony hadn't seen before jabbed an elbow into Footloose's side in order to cut him off from a particularly juicy glob of not-puke.

Tony straightened a little on the bench, until he felt the dead weight of Peter's unconscious head on his shoulder. Then he settled down.

"Friday, is the kid okay?" he asked, and - oh, the joys of being in satellite range - Friday answered right away.

"All of Mr. Parker's vital signs are within norm, boss," Friday said, and then continued in a way that could almost be interpreted as reproachful. "The same goes for you."

But Tony had no attention to spare to anything but Strange, who was sitting stone-faced directly opposite Tony.

"If that's any consolation, there was no other way," he said.

"What the fuck did you do?!" hissed Tony, doing his best not to jostle the kid's head. He needed to know what happened to May before Peter came to.

Strange's lips pursed as if he'd just sucked on a lemon. A moldy lemon. A moldy lemon that had first been used as a chewtoy by a particularly unhygienic and slobbery dog.

"I'm not sure you're aware of this, Tony, but your young friend's guardian has a... peculiar influence on men. A most remarkable woman, May Parker. It seems that in addition to her numerous other virtues she also happens to resemble a depiction of a Titanian goddess of death that left a really lasting impression on young Thanos. That, coupled with Mrs. Parker's extraordinary effect on men, or any sentient creatures of equivalent-"

"He set up Thanos with your friend's relative, is what he's getting at," Insectoid Barbie chimed in helpfully. "It was so romantic. Thanos agreed to return the soul stone and Gamora appeared out of thin air, like poof, and Thanos promised to put the mass murder on hold and then Gamora slapped him and then he went into the refreshment shop for a stewed leaf beverage and I also wanted some but Quill said I couldn't have any because we had to shag ass before Thanos changed his mind and then we came here."

Tony's first thought was "fuck, the kid will be so upset over this". His second thought went, "well, it beats the death of half the sentient life in the Universe". Thought number three shuffled in somewhat guiltily "give it to Aunt Hottie to soothe the savage beast. Better hope her tea's worse than her pastry, it might do him in". He probably should be smashing his fist on the table and yelling that they didn't trade lives or whatever, but he couldn't imagine there'd be much use in that.

"Did you tell May any of this or does she think an enormous purple alien just happened to drop over and decided to practice his pick up lines on her?" he asked Strange.

"I explained the situation, there was _ample_ time for that. Mrs. Parker was most understanding. I suggested she stretch the courting indefinitely, and she found that... preferable to the alternative," Strange announced, looking somewhat relieved.

"Okay, this is so out there I'm starting to wonder whether I'm not on some alien Hidden Camera, but at least it gives us time to come up with a better plan to off him, right?" said Tony.

Unfortunately, he was pretty sure he had Strange's tells down by now, and so he couldn't help but notice when Strange adopted a suspiciously blank expression.

"That's the spirit," he said, and before Tony could grill him any more he got up with an air of finality. "Well, it's been interesting. I sincerely hope I never have occasion to see any one of you ever again. Don't waste your time looking for me."

And then the bastard fucking disappeared, but not before the cloak gave Tony a cheerful little wave goodbye.

Tony gnashed his teeth so hard he probably wore off the top layer of this very expensive masterpiece of dentistry, and right then he felt Peter stir by his side.


	2. Chapter 2

"All right, I take it back. I'd rather give the more painful road to victory a try," says Tony, smacking his forehead against the immaculate finish on Strange's working table. Retorts clatter forlornly around him.

"You really wouldn't," mutters Strange, not even looking up from the grimoire he's studying. The cloak pats Tony consolingly on the shoulder. He has no idea why he keeps coming here. Or why Strange doesn't throw him out. Perhaps it's his way of showing gratitude over Tony saving his magical hide. Perhaps he thinks Tony will do something inadvisable otherwise. In any case, tracking down the Bleecker St. address is actually Tony's only tangible success in the quest to neutralize Thanos for the last six months, and that's just unacceptable.

"I can't believe the rest of you gave up so easily. Scratch that, I can believe it of Quill, who I bet is the human equivalent of a goldfish, but you strike me as the kind of guy who holds grudges forever," muses Tony.

"Thanos has no designs on the Time Stone at present. That's my only concern. If you want to waste your time plotting against someone who is currently engaged in, what was it? I believe the Daily Newsmonger called it 'community initiatives for improving urban areas'. Anyway, if you want to spend all your time battling that, don't involve me."

Tony turns his head around enough to glower at Strange's profile. It's just as well _he_ isn't a wizard, or Strange would be on fire right now.

"I'm wasting my time looking for a reliable way to deal with him once he stops playing Mister Rogers," Tony spells it out. Strange's answer to that is always the same.

"The future is still uncertain. You might never need to fight Thanos again. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more pressing engagements to attend to."

He snaps his fingers and suddenly Tony's standing in the middle of his new penthouse in Manhattan.

"Welcome home, boss," Friday's voice echoes off the walls. Now it's unflappable as ever, though the first time Strange gave Tony a lift Friday was so puzzled she immediately asked for a sensors recalibration. "Was your visit to the Doctor helpful?"

"As a glass hammer. Any word from Vision?" Tony asks while he fixes himself dinner. It's a large coffee and a handful of supplements, so that he's nice and perky for another all-nighter. One net positive of being permanently pepperless is that he can go on all the workaholic benders he wants.

"No. Should I attempt contact?"

"Let's give it a few more days. What about our friends in the Sherwood forest?"

"Everything's quiet with Captain Rogers and his group, boss."

Vision and Wanda's off world trip looks more like a pleasure cruise and less like a desperate bid to keep one of the stones out of Thanos' hands with every new call. Thor's MIA. With Steve's crew booted out of Wakanda and Bruce still having performance issues, it feels increasingly like Tony's on a one-man mission. Peter hardly counts, he's another hostage to protect more than an ally on this one.

"What's Thanos been up to?"

Friday brings up a few news titles. "Purple Alien Turns Queens Green" and "Neighborhood Charmed by Gentle Giant" throw their big shadows over Tony's face. The Daily Bugle shows a picture of Thanos next to a blurry snapshot of Spider-man under the words "Time to Sweep up the Cobwebs?". Tony winces.

"The drone trailed him to the Parker residence, where he has stayed for the last 20 minutes," Friday continues. "I believe Mrs. Parker asked him over for assistance with a leaking pipe followed by refreshments."

For fuck's sake. Even the knowledge that Thanos is being treated to May's idea of refreshments isn't enough to cheer up Tony right now. He has to hand it to May though, she certainly manages to dole out just enough hope to keep Ludo firmly in line without breaking a sweat. If only she were some random attractive aunt. Tony would still keep an eye out, but he wouldn't be on red alert all the time, and more importantly, neither would Peter.

"Sync up with Karen and tell me what Peter's doing."

There's a pause while Friday complies, and then "Mr. Parker's at home, currently wearing the suit."

Of course he is, thinks Tony. He's probably hovering on the edges like an overly protective lapdog, ready to spring at any moment in case Thanos attacks May in between rock cakes that taste like they really were baked with gravel.

"Call him," Tony orders shortly.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," the kid answers breathlessly. Like he's desperately trying to pretend nothing's wrong. Or like he's hanging upside-down above the bathroom door. "What's up?"

"A little birdie tells me you have guests. Everything fine?"

"Yeah, just. Yeah," and then, lower. "Thanos got kind of drenched and May _towel-dried his head_ and called him 'big silly'. I'm not sure how much more of this I can stand, Mr. Stark."

Things are worse than Tony could have imagined. This is beyond anyone's endurance, and Peter should really not be suffering through this alone.

"I'm so sorry, kid," Tony says, warmer than he's allowed himself to be for a long time. "If there's anything I can do-"

"Yes! Yes, there is," Peter rushes out. "It's my birthday the day after tomorrow, and I'm having a party at home and May kind of invited You-Know-Who and I really want you to be the- I mean, I can really use the extra backup. That's all this is, backup."

"I'll be there," Tony promises, and he can practically feel the waves of Peter's excitement as Friday disconnects the call.

~ ~ ~

Tony arrives earlier than he ever has at any party in his life. It pays off, he manages to enter the field of battle before the enemy.

"Tony," May greets him in a voice that manages to suggest her less than enthusiastic reaction to his presence.

"May," he answers and hands over the cake box. "You look ravishing as usual. Where's Peter?"

Peter crashes out of his room at this exact moment and then sort of freezes like a hare in headlights. Not a deer, comparison to something smaller and more adorable is called for.

Tony looks him over avidly. The kid seems thinner and there are very faint shadows under his eyes, which with his regeneration factor means many sleepless nights.

"Hey, Pete. Welcome to adulthood. Just so you know, it’s all downhill from here."

"Hey, Mr. Stark! Thanks! That means a lot coming from you," Peter mumbles quickly and then seems to realize what he just said. "I mean, the congratulations, not-"

Despite everything, Tony feels the grin splitting his own face and Peter tentatively returns the smile. He's missed the kid. He spends a lot of time talking to him, but he's still missed him somehow.

"I'll just go and put this away. I don't know what we'll do with it since we already have a _homemade_ cake," May says into the stretching silence, wandering off towards the kitchen corner.

Tony rounds the Parkers' couch casually, and Peter backs up as naturally as if they’re dancing together, and they come to rest in the narrow alcove by the far window past the door to Peter's room. It's as close to alone that they'll probably get today.

"How's it really going, kid?" Tony whispers. Peter's face immediately scrunches up in what Tony's started calling his "brave little toaster" expression. "And don't tell me you're doing fine. You look like what's eating you should be having indigestion."

Peter keeps up the front for a couple of seconds, then wilts in the face of Tony's skepticism. "I'm fine. It's just that with May _dating again_ I can never really relax. I always have to be Spider-man, never me. May's changed too, I don't know why she isn't more freaked out about this. And you won't let me help you."

He sounds more tired than indignant and Tony's blood runs cold. As long as he's known Peter, the kid's been an inexhaustible fount of good cheer and optimism. To see him so demoralized is simply unnatural.

Tony doesn't make the conscious decision to put his hands on Peter's shoulders, close to the neck so he can also line up his thumbs with Peter's jaw and nudge up the corners of it with the very tips. Peter looks up at him, startled, mouth half-open.

"We talked about this, okay?" Tony murmurs lowly. "As long as he still thinks he has a chance with your aunt, he's not going to do anything to her or to you, or to anyone else if May might find out. That is unless he feels genuinely threatened. If he ever imagines you're a danger to him and acts on it, and he _will_ act on it, he'll lose May, and then there's no telling what he'll do. He might decide to go for slaughtering all sentient life in the universe instead of just half."

Tony knows Peter enough to be certain that while Peter could never toe the line for his own sake, he would if others' lives were at stake. It's fighting dirty, but Tony's willing to do that and more for the sake of Peter's safety. Much more.

He runs his thumbs along Peter's neck in what he hopes is a soothing manner, and finally Peter nods. He seems more himself too, bright-eyed and really present.

"All right. But, Mr. Stark, I have a hunch it's not gonna matter much longer," Peter tells him.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know how to explain it, I just have a feeling like something big will change, and soon."

Tony opens his mouth to question Peter further, and the bell rings. Peter nearly jumps against him, and fuck, when did they get so close? It must be the need for secrecy manifesting in weird ways.

Tony steps back just as the new guests are admitted.

Thank goodness, it's not Thanos, just a couple of Peter's friends. The one who broke Karen 1.0's defenses is talking to May, explaining the cake he just brought with some convoluted story. The other, a girl with a crow's nest of hair that Tony christens Hermione, immediately zeroes in on him.

There's no chance to talk to Peter after that.

More guests start arriving, another teen girl and her father, with a third cake. Hermione keeps ambushing Tony around the room, making remarks about late stage capitalism and champagne-swilling plutocrats which would have been hilarious any other day.

He can't imagine Peter used to celebrate his birthdays so communally before. Maybe some of these people assume it's because it's his last before going away for college, a goodbye of sorts, but to Tony it seems like banding together in the face of an unconscious fear. Never mind that the threat is set to attend as well.

Thanos arrives last, and when the doorbell chimes there is a curious hush descending around the room. Tony moves so there is no one between him and the door.

May answers the door, gliding unhurriedly like this is nothing new, and Tony honestly doesn't know whether he should be impressed or concerned. He catches Peter's eye through the crowd and he can see the kid visibly steeling himself even as the look causes Tony to feel more in control and less like a cornered beast.

Then he is face to chest with Thanos. Which is surreally anti-climactic. Thanos has to crouch and sort of crab walk sideways to fit through May's door, but he does all that while still maintaining perfect dignity.

He produces a bouquet from somewhere and offers it to May.

"I am conscious of the kindness of your invitation," he says. The flowers are some kind of alien species that look like the product of a love affair between a flytrap and an octopus. The tendrils try to wrap around May's wrist. She doesn't bat an eyelash.

"Thank you," she says. "The birthday boy is somewhere around here."

Thanos raises a hand the size of an elephant foot in Peter's direction. "Young Parker. May you witness many more millennia."

"Uh, thanks," Peter says, looking caught between his hilarious ingrained politeness and what looks like existential horror. Tony can sympathize. 

He makes his way to his protégé even though tactically it would be a better idea not to cluster.

"Yes, yes, young Parker here is in rude health," Tony says loudly, wedging himself between Peter and Thanos. Peter makes an indignant sound at Tony's back. "Speaking of rude, we should go and make sure those flowers don't eat May."

He puts his hand on the back of Peter's neck and leads him over to the other side of the room, never once taking his eyes off of Thanos, who looks placidly amused in return.

May's in the middle of soaking the alien flytrap in what looks like vinegar. She barely looks up when Tony parks himself by the counter and a rattled Peter hops to sit on the fridge, because when feeling endangered the kid's first instinct is to get high. And not metaphorically speaking. At least he didn't somersault onto the ceiling.

"Blink twice if you're being mind controlled and you actually desperately want out of here," Tony hisses at May out of the corner of his mouth.

"How could I blink if I were being mind controlled?" she asks back, irritatingly calmly.

"What the hell could Strange have said to you to make you tolerate threats to Peter's safety?"

Peter tugs on Tony's collar.

"Mr. Stark-"

"Oh, believe me, I would like nothing more than to keep Peter away from anyone who could jeopardize his future," declares May. „But it seems I must be more practical."

She gives Peter's ankle a squeeze and Tony - a poisonous look, and strides away.

Tony noticed a while ago that her already less than warm attitude chilled abruptly after Peter and he returned from space. He assumed it was because he had led Peter into danger, but this hostility seemed too excessive for that. No matter her suspicion of him, May should not be intimating he's as big a danger to Peter as Thanos.

There's another ring at the door.

Tony has no fucking idea who that is, but he's willing to bet a considerable chunk of his fortune that they brought cake.

Before anyone can answer there's a distinct mechanical scrape outside, someone grumbles loudly "quit shoving, I'm going in first!" and the door swings open to reveal Quill, who swaggers in flanked by his green girlfriend and a blue stranger. And sure enough, behind Gamora a clear sphere floats in containing something that kind of looks like alien cake. It’s virulently green and oozing phosphorescent liquid.

Tony cranes his neck back to see how Peter is taking all this, only to see the kid - what else - beaming beatifically right back.

~ ~ ~

The candle-blowing part of the proceedings requires some negotiation, since there's half as many cakes as candles and there's no way the quests could have fit around the Parkers' kitchen table. 

Peter ends up sitting cross-legged by the coffee table on which May's lopsided creation has been skewered with red and blue striped candles like a landslide with safety signs. Peter casts an embarrassed look around the circle of people around, pausing where he gets to Tony's spot behind the couch. Tony gives him a wink and bites back a grin when Peter gets even more flustered. Tony has a protégé who gets flustered when he's the center of attention, who would have thought?

Peter gets a move on before the cake crawls down to the carpet, scrunching his face as he blows the candles. It is unanimously decided that May's cake, as the centerpiece of the evening, should be left for last. The others are summarily cut and divvied up, and Tony feels secretly smug that Peter starts with a piece of the chocolate cherry one Tony brought. Tony himself goes with the meringue diabetic coma masterpiece by Mrs. Leeds which literally makes his teeth stick together. The blue alien, or Tinky-Winky as Tony thinks of her, portions her freshly unpacked cake with a sword and offers it around with "it's safe for human consumption".

She offers a piece to Thanos like a challenge. Thanos accepts and almost ceremoniously forks off a bite while Peter begins a sticky conversation with Quill.

"We're on Earth because Gamora wanted to see her _father_ , and I use the word in the worthless scumbag sense. We expect him to kick the bucket pronto and we wanted to make sure she gets her share of the inheritance, if you know what I mean," he blusters loudly, pretending not to notice that both Gamora and Tinky-Winky are eyeballing him.

" This has a most familiar taste... there's very few who still recall what poisons work on my kind," Thanos cuts in, and both Gamora and Tinky-Winky go aggressively intent. 

Tinky-Winky launches herself at him. Thanos twists very quickly for such a big guy and in a second he has her in a headlock.

"Nebula appears to be choking," he declares dispassionately as she struggles in his grip, teeth bared. "You shouldn't bite off more than you can chew, daughter."

The room's so quiet you could hear a crumb drop. That is, until Tony says:

"I can help with that!"

He pretends to trip and shoots a capsule of his improved, vibranium based nanites at Thanos' eyes. The nanites spread immediately, cutting out his vision. They could eat through ordinary flesh like laser through butter, and Tony has been itching to see if they could draw more than a drop of blood from Thanos.

"Whoops, my bad," he says, before sidestepping so that Thanos wouldn’t know where he is. Quill's already pulled a gun and gotten to his feet and Peter's pulling his sleeves up when Thanos slams his gauntleted hand against his own face and burns Tony's nanites away. The skin underneath is only slightly reddened.

The arm around Nebula tightens visibly, Thanos' narrow eyes pinning Tony, who is already gearing up for a fight, his mind racing on how to get the civilians out and to keep Peter safe. Then May makes a move in the background. It's something simple, changing the position of her arm or uncrossing her legs, but it gets Thanos' attention. The arm he has around Nebula loosens until it's holding her in an embrace rather than a chokehold.

"I trust we won't have any more accidents tonight," he looks at Tony as he says it and Tony feels Peter's flank pressing into his leg protectively which makes him want to fling the kid away so he won't be caught in the fallout. He wonders what form the retaliation will take.

~ ~ ~

Everybody disperses faster than hipsters at a Nickleback concert. At least Peter's friends don't look traumatized - Ned seems ecstatic, and Hermione - too cool to care, which even if not true means she's ok enough to pretend to be above it. The kid with the dad in tow gives Peter a resigned grin goodbye, and Tony can hear a mutter of "Italians, eh!" as they round the corner.

Then Tony and Peter are alone on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building.

Peter stares at the tips of his scuffed shoes and Tony stares at Peter.

"Mr. Stark, do you think we're there yet?" Peter asks, just as Tony decides it would be weird to delay going home any more. Peter looks up for the answer, because he is brave, he's braver than Tony and Tony's so proud of him.

He takes a step forward, puts a hand on Peter's shoulder and slowly draws him in. Peter's arms snake around Tony's chest under his jacket, and his sharp chin digs into Tony's shoulder. Tony wants to ask the kid to come with him, to spend the night in one of the two spare bedrooms at the penthouse Tony didn't even pretend weren't meant for him and Rhodey. But it's dangerous, tonight, and Peter would never ditch May alone upstairs with a bunch of dirty glasses in the wake of an almost fight in their living room.

Tony pulls away first and starts rambling. "Some party, kid. I don't remember my own 18th birthday that well, but I'm pretty sure the only similarity was in the amount of chocolate sauce and cream consumed." Oh, fuck, was this inappropriate? Hopefully not. "Anyway, here's hoping that the next one doesn't include assassination attempts. Or, if Thanos is still around, that they're successful."

The kid smiles slightly and on that note Tony calls up the suit and takes off. The ghost of Peter's smile, small and melancholy but genuine, stays with him all the way home and sends him off to sleep.

~ ~ ~

"Boss. Wake up, boss. I am obliged to remind you that in 60 seconds my snooze protocol disengages and I am authorized to dispatch Dum-E 2.0 with a bucket of cold water. Last chance to wake-"

"I'm awake!" Tony grouches. He slept on his front and the nanite container left a painful imprint on his chest. He rubs the spot now while registering the fact that he's still in one piece and no army of Thanos fanatics attacked him during the night. Then he remembers that the snooze protocol can only be overridden for emergencies. "Jesus, what's wrong?"

"I think it'll be simpler if you just see."

She plays the video on the tablet Tony leaves on his side table, clearly not from the beginning. Tony sees a wide shot of a roof garden, Gamora and Quill by a concrete wall planter, Nebula kneeling next to May on the ground, looking way too intense about weeding. Peter walks into frame, carrying a crate, in a holey t-shirt and with white zinc oxide smears on his cheeks because May is categorically against sunscreen. Something about him is so impossibly endearing that Tony zones out of the video for a few seconds, until Thanos takes central stage in the shot.

"-so some of your family is human?" asks an excited voice off camera.

"My first son-in-law is half human. He is eminently adequate," Thanos declares calmly. It should sound really douchy, but with Quill scratching his stomach in the background, looking lazy and hungover, "adequate" seems greatly restrained. "My... future second son-in-law merits all the respect that could be afforded to a human." _Which is not much_ Tony continues the line mentally, wondering who the poor bastard is. "I expect you've heard of him. His name is Stark."

Okay, Tony surely didn't hear right.

"Tony Stark?" squeaks the camera voice.

Behind Thanos, Peter turns uncertainly.

Oh, fuck, this better not be going where Tony thinks it's going.

With the inevitability of a car crash, Tony watches Thanos wave Peter over, watches the kid trot closer eagerly since this is about his precious Mr. Stark, watches him turn his innocent dorky face to the camera.

"I understand he's been courting young Peter here for a while now. Eighteen of your years seems too young to me to form any formal attachments, but I can appreciate Stark's determination."

At this point Peter evidently decides he has to set the record straight.

"Mr. Stark really isn't courting me or anything. He's just my mentor. No, wait, he's my internship supervisor. Not personally, um, he's much too busy for that. I barely know him. And he would _never_ be interested in a relationship with _me_ ," Peter says. The tips of his ears turn redder and redder as he talks. "Do you mind not uploading this?"

The video freezes on a shot of Peter's panicked face and the impossibly smug smirk on Thanos's.

This is all Tony's fault. He was expecting an actual physical attack and it never even occurred to him that the big purple nut considers Tony part of the family too. Obviously you didn't develop an intergalactic personality cult of such proportions without being good at PR, and Tony _should have expected something like this_. Oh, God, Pepper will kill him, Rhodey will run through whatever's left, and Peter will have to live with the fact that he basically admitted on video that he's been conducting a sordid illegal affair with Tony who didn't want to have a relationship with him and only used him for sex. Even Friday couldn't scrub this thing off the Internet now.

He was pulled out of contemplating the depth of this fiasco by a thump against his window and looked up to see Peter clinging to the glass like a very large, very embarrassed starfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering how anybody could write so many words on a concept this stupid and not even make it proper crack but weirdly serious crack, I'm right there with you. I started writing this because my actual canon fic and even my other crack fic was too overwhelming, and because I've decided not to leave fic unfinished I'm keeping at it. But I'm still wondering wtf I was thinking and evaluating my fic priorities.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony isn’t great at reassuring people. He has only one thing to say to Peter, ‘don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of everything’. It doesn’t seem to be helping, or rather it isn’t sinking in.

He’s reworded it several different ways since Peter dropped down onto his kitchen floor and pulled off his mask to reveal an expression so anxious and guilty that it made Tony want to strangle someone. A particular someone.

“Seriously, it’s not your fault and it’s not a big deal,” Tony says yet again, aiming for concerned mentor and hoping he doesn’t land in the vicinity of impatient rich douchebag who finds other people’s feelings tedious and inconvenient. In other words, he hopes he didn’t channel his dad again. “This won’t hurt me-” _and I promise I won’t let it hurt you_ , “so don’t worry about it.”

He’s herded Peter to the workshop, the only room in the penthouse that can aspire to coziness. There Peter sits on the couch Tony occasionally passes out on, his pillow and blanket still carelessly thrown over it. Tony had Friday make Peter a hot cup of something she called latte and which is actually warm milk with a thimbleful of coffee mixed in so that Peter can pretend Tony isn’t treating him like a little kid if he wants to. Jarvis used to fetch Tony hot milk on the nights he waited up for parents who never made it back. Not that it fixed anything, but Tony's fresh out of other ideas.

“Will it help if I come out as Spider-man?” Peter asks.

“No.”

Peter gives Tony a look that somehow manages to convey deference and disbelief in equal measure. A sort of “I have endless respect for you but we both know you’re bullshitting me right now” look, except without the profanity.

“There’s no need to go that far. At worst it will lead to some gossip online, that’s all,” Tony says. He's downplaying a little. Okay, a lot, but he isn't lying that there won’t be any serious consequences for him. Lots of people are eager to believe the worst of anyone in Tony’s position and it will probably be humiliating for Pepper, but nobody would be stupid enough to formally investigate Iron Man, practically the last Avenger if you don’t count Rhodey (who needs Stark tech just to walk), because of unsubstantiated speculation that Tony might have consensually fucked his teenaged intern. Ross is probably tripping over himself to bury this if only to lord the favor over Tony, and will be very disappointed when he finds out there is nothing concrete to bury. It's unlikely any actual journalist would even dare bring it up directly to Tony.

No, the real trouble lies in the many politicians, non-profit organization representatives, the journalists who’ll look at Tony and never say anything, all the while silently resenting him for getting away with it, suspecting other unimaginable skeletons in his closet, other stains behind the reputation and trust he so painstakingly built up. People who might be that much more willing to give the benefit of the doubt to the friendly, funny-looking purple alien who’s made his home on Earth after the tragic destruction of his original planet. But there is no need for Peter to worry about that. That's Tony's job.

Peter, who keeps biting and releasing his lip and who’s gone uncharacteristically quiet. Not a good sign.

Tony doesn’t want to loom over the kid, so he snags a lab chair, wheels it over and sits down, resting his elbows on his knees. Peter traces the movement with seemingly unconscious absent-mindedness. He stares at Tony’s forearms before his eyes flick back to Tony’s face. Tony grins at him, hoping to put him at ease. Peter nervously licks his now raspberry-pink lip.

“ _You_ came out right away,” Peter points out in a rush, like that is a devastating argument. “Besides, I’m old enough now to sign the Accords. They can’t even try to make me give up being Spider-man.”

“Okay, first of all, I never came out, paps caught me staggering out of a motel with my arm around a half-dressed figure skater,” Tony deflects. Peter’s mouth makes a perfect o, and Tony guessed this is inappropriate too. It's so hard to keep track of these things. “You can sign without going public. Think about how much harder it will be to have a normal college experience at MIT. And who knows what kind of dangerous attention you’ll attract to May.”

“The kind that you _and_ Thanos won’t be able to deal with?” Tony is about to ask if Peter is counting on Thanos to protect May now, when Peter takes a deep breath and continues. “Anyway, I’m not going to MIT.”

That takes a couple of seconds to sink in.

“Say what now?”

Peter visibly steels himself, as if he's about to face an execution squad.

“I’m sorry. I know how much you wanted this for me, but I have to stay here.”

“This is not about what I want, this is your future,” Tony says, and because he is worried and blind-sided, he forgets to rein in his asshole side. He’s counted on getting Peter out of the way under the pretext of college. “Any other surprises? Did you also decide to become a PE teacher? Waste your life in some other way?”

Peter jerks back, looking devastated but also resigned, like he’s been expecting this. It makes Tony both madder and guiltier. He wants to take everything he just said back and also to take Peter by those deceptively fragile-looking wrists and not let go until he sees sense. Tony feels just like he did when he took back the suit, brimming with the bitter bile of fear and so out of control that he didn’t care that he was fucking up their relationship, that he had no right to discipline Peter.

Like Peter would ever listen to him. When it comes to the little things he is all ‘yes, Mr. Stark’, ‘right away, Mr. Stark’, but when it really matters he only ever does what he's decided. Once Peter's made up his mind there's no dissuading him, and yet Tony could never help trying. He has to, because the kid’s sense of danger is even faultier than Tony’s own.

“Do you think May wants you trailing her? She’s doing all this for you, so you don’t have to fight this war!”

“This isn’t about May,” Peter says quietly.

“Then what is it about?”

But Peter only bends forward to leave the cup on the floor.

The lab chair spins away as Tony springs up to his feet. There is only a step to cover, and then he's standing inches from Peter’s knees, so close Peter has to wrench his neck up to look at Tony’s face.

“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not running away. I want answers.”

Peter’s feet shuffle nervously in place, like he's trying to give Tony enough space, or maybe like he's still looking for a way out. Entirely on instinct, Tony’s hand comes up to the back of Peter’s neck, and he stills like a kitten picked up by the scruff.

“Please, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers so quietly he's almost just mouthing the words. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Don’t hold back on me now,” Tony coaxes. Something about having Peter like this smooths all his hackles down, calming an irrational, grasping part of him. He shifts his hold on Peter’s neck, the silky skin a little slippery in his grasp as if he - or Peter - has been sweating, the counterpoint tickle of silky hair against his knuckles equally distracting.

“May would be fine, Wong or Doctor Strange would get her out if they had to. I can’t leave because of you. You’ll pick a fight with Thanos if I’m not there,” Peter says with the same resigned certainty, putting a sudden stop to Tony’s distraction. A second, and Peter looks up at the reverberation of Tony’s silent laughter.

“Jesus, kid. You realize I’m so strung-up only because you’re right there in the fucking lion den?”

Peter squints up at him like the idea could never have occurred to him. Tony watches him indulgently now, another one of his increasingly frequent moments of appreciation of the kid’s cuteness. His curved throat, his plumped-up lip that makes it look like he's pouting. Only a few moments worth of appreciation, because it wouldn’t do to show how thoroughly he’s been placated. He brushes the hand he used to hold Peter in place over the top of her head, muscles tensing in preparation to pull away.

Quick as a wink, Peter grabbs a fistful of Tony’s t-shirt and wraps his leg around Tony’s calf, keeping him from stepping back.

Tony raises an eyebrow at him, more surprised than he lets on.

“We’re not playing Twister here, kid,” he says.

“Please, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers again. “It’s not worth it to fight him just to… just to defend your territory. I know it’s not worth it.”

He really does sound like he believes he knows it for a fact, and for a moment Tony wonders. Has Strange been telling tales? Is he trying to use Peter?

_You’re spoiling for a fight._

Taking advantage of his distraction, Peter hooks his fingers over the neck of Tony’s t-shirt and tugs down plaintively. Tony goes with it, momentarily curious, and then suddenly they are kissing with the ease of a car careening into a road-side ravine. 

Tony's experiencing it all in a mental double-vision. On the one side he's certain he couldn’t be kissing Peter because Peter isn't for kissing. He's for protecting and marveling at, but not kissing. On the other is the visceral satisfaction of tasting Peter’s sweet-raspberry, bruised-cherry lip, of sucking on the pointed little tip of his tongue. Peter hangs off Tony, Tony teetering over him precariously, the deceptively convenient safety net of the couch hovering on the edges of Tony's awareness.

He pulls away and pressed his forehead to Peter’s. The kid makes a noise and tries to chase Tony’s lips, but Tony grabs his chin and keeps him in place. He needs to be back in control asap.

“What are you playing at?” he asks harshly.

"Aren't we there yet?" Peter asks in turn, flushed, his head still invitingly turned up.

"We aren't even on the road to there."

Peter doesn't argue, but reaches hesitantly and hugs Tony around the waist, retreating into a show of affection he's been allowed before. Tony lets go of his chin and runs the same hand over his own face, while Peter turns his hot cheek into Tony's chest.

"I thought for sure you knew and pretended not to," Peter mumbles into his stomach.

"I don't know everything, kid. Just most things," Tony tells him, setting his hands down on Peter's shoulders when the kid doesn't burst into tears or reach for his junk, or whatever it is teenagers with inappropriate crushes do once the jig's up.

"I'll leave the city if you do too," Peter throws out. He seems to find it easier to communicate with Tony's ribs.

"Did you just ask me to move in with you? You move fast," Tony jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Instead he gets Peter to light up like a Christmas tree in Vegas.

"Would you?!" he asks breathlessly. He still can't quite look directly at Tony, but he's growing bolder again.

"No. I'm too old to have a roommate," Tony tells him, bracing himself for Peter deflating like a balloon, which keeps not happening.

"You could just move to Boston because it's nice, and then you could let me live with you because I'm a poor scholarship student?" he says hopefully.

Tony spares a moment to imagine it, a tall-fenced house in Belmont with all the Mormons and Nobel laureates who hate Tony's guts for different reasons, Peter swanning around in one of Tony's convertibles, waving at their neighbors. Tony's tired of New York and the deadweight of memories he is dragging around here anyway. It would almost seem tempting, except-

"Only if you wanted to confirm that I've been in fact, what was it? Courting you?"

Peter switches back to his other default state of wide-eyed earnestness.

"I don't care about that. I mean, I care about people thinking badly of you, but I don't care if they say I'm an innocent-looking yet crafty gold-digger who engineered that video to trap you," he says, in the kind of matter-of-fact voice that implies a quote.

"Not that I don't admire your attitude, Pete, but-" _I don't feel the same way, ill-advised kissing notwithstanding? I thought I'd let you down gently but maybe I was too subtle?_ Which would be a first, but still. _You should really get over your feelings for me because I'm a fraud and when something finally knocks me off that pedestal it's going to leave us both shattered?_

But it's hard to get the words out in the face of Peter's hopeful, expectant look.

"Did I mention that Thanos said that if you finally decided to make an honest arachnid out of me he could be persuaded to part with one of the stones as dowry?" Peter says, licking that long-suffering lip yet again.

Tony doesn't kiss him.

But he thinks about it.

And a minute later, when Peter grows bold enough to curl one of his worry-thin arms around Tony's neck like a leash, Tony doesn't protest.

In fact, he feels much soothed.

**Author's Note:**

> Supernatural attractiveness is Aunt May's canonical superpower.


End file.
